


The Boot Heel

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2421605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you making fun of me, woman?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boot Heel

**Author's Note:**

> This had been a WIP forever, a possible expansion on a comment fic. Then [](http://lizi0527.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lizi0527.livejournal.com/)**lizi0527** gave me the prompt **W is for wound** in my alphabet meme and it came to life again.

“That’s a gunshot.” Dave pointed to the scar below his left nipple. “It was just a graze wound from a firefight outside of Boston but it bled like a bitch. This is another gunshot wound. Here’s a knife wound, switchblade I think; here’s one from a box cutter. That’s my appendectomy scar, that’s a chain, that’s a boot heel…”

“A boot heel?” Erin raised her eyebrow.

“Yep, that’s a boot heel.”

“This is a story I want to hear.” She sat up on her elbows in bed and examined Dave’s body.

It was always a worthwhile activity; tonight was no different. Dave was showing off his scars. He had plenty of them from his days in the military and then the FBI. Since he was just wearing a towel, tonight’s display was from the torso up. He wasn’t grotesque, Erin didn’t think he ever could be, but every scar had a story.

“It’s called David vs. Goliath. In the summer of 1985 I went down to Huntsville, Alabama to help locals and the ABI investigate a rash of hate crimes. An interracial couple had been brutally murdered and an older black couple was almost beaten to death. Then two young teenage girls, best friends, one black and one white, were raped and shot execution style. The crimes happened within 3 weeks of each other and the town was on edge to say the least.

“It’s a progressive town for that far down south; they didn’t want to make the national news for those kinds of things happening. While many in law enforcement were still skeptical about profiling they still begged for my help. I profiled someone white, middle class, insecure, and desperate to be accepted by a group or individual. He was somewhere between the ages of 17 and 25, no older, and still lived at home with his parents. The investigation heated up quickly after my profile. We ended up paying close attention to a local group of wannabe neo-Nazis and ended up fighting our way out of a biker bar one night.”

“Wouldn’t a thing like that heal by now?” Erin asked. She moved her fingers over the darkened patch of skin on Dave’s torso.

“Blood vessels were broken so its here to stay. It’s healed though; that’s just a reminder.”

“A reminder of what?”

“That it’s always a bad idea to fuck with a guy from Long Island.” Dave replied. “You should see the skinhead.”

“Mr. Badass.” She grinned.

“Damn skippy baby.” Dave wrapped his arms around her. Erin was only wearing one of his dress shirts, with three of the buttons undone. As fascinating as the conversation was, he wasn’t opposed to ending it in the very near future. “I've taken my licks for the FBI.”

“So you’ve been shot twice?” Erin asked. She smiled when he pulled her onto his lap. Straddling him, she moaned from the contact the terry cloth made with her intimate skin. Dave thrust up as Erin grinded down. When he gripped her hips they both sighed.

“I've been shot four times as a matter of fact; not that it’s anything to brag about.”

“You still find a way to do it though…and make it sexy.”

“Well, not every gunshot is fatal. Plus, back in the day hand to hand combat with an Unsub, suspect, or all around disgruntled and violent individual wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. The world was different then.”

“Ahh, nostalgia.” Erin smiled.

“Are you making fun of me, woman?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

They both laughed. Dave kissed her nose. Erin ran her fingers through his thick hair. It was salt and pepper once again. He wasn’t allowed to change it under threat of imminent and permanent harm. Dave knew when listening to his Section Chief was in his best interest.

“They only make you sexier you know.”

“The scars?”

“Mmm hmm.” She nodded.

Dave had no idea what it was about some women and battle wounds. Maybe it went all the way back to Helen of Troy. For him it at least went back to Cecilia Matarazzo in the second grade. She liked his mangled elbow from the time he fell out of the tree.

Dave wasn’t going to complain much about using what he had to impress. He had enough to impress Erin for some time. He liked impressing Erin…he liked it a lot. Feeling her excitement, her desire as she touched all over his skin, excited Dave too.

“So, you have a boot heel scar? I think that’s hot.”

“I think you're hot baby.” Dave’s hands moved from her hips to the buttons of her shirt. He just toyed with them; it wasn’t quite time to get naked. Maybe he’d just fuck her with the shirt on. There was nothing wrong with mixing things up a bit. “That makes us even. One day you’ll have to tell me why you like my scars so much.”

“Well…”

“Uh uh.” Dave put his finger on her lips, moaning when she slipped it into her mouth. “I said one day, baby, not now. Now I have something else entirely on my mind.”

“You're insatiable.” Erin pressed against him and kissed him hard.

“Mmm, say that again.” Dave’s hands slid down her back to cup her ass. Erin smiled, shivering when one hand moved further between her parted thighs.

“You're fuckin insatiable, David Rossi.”

“Yes, I am. You're beautiful, amazing, sexy, and fantastic.”

“I'm not prepared to argue…its bad form.”

Grinning, Dave rolled them on the mattress. He pushed Erin’s shirt up as his towel came off. The look on her face, eager, blissful, sexy; any man would consider himself lucky when a woman looked that way in his presence. He took hold of her wrists, kissed them, and then held them over her head.

“You want me to be gentle, baby.” Dave asked, nuzzling the crook of her neck. The way Erin quivered made him do the same. “I can be so gentle.”

“I want you to fuck me, David. I'm not afraid of a few scars.”

She was a tough dame. It was one of the many things that made Dave fall madly in love with her, this time and every single time before.

***

  



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